If you live on a small island
you need a boat and two docks:
one here and one for those
reluctant trips ashore.

For years our island dock
was a narrow nervous thread
of plywood on pipes.

Finally upper management
declared she was tired of
walking the plank to reach
the boat, or inversely,
the shore.

Consultations, planning sessions
by telephone and spiraling
protests later, a contract was awarded
and I commenced construction
of a huge L-shaped deck
over the water, and although
plans for the dock-end boutique
were shelved, it was, as they say

Now, the winter’s ice in the river
could take a structure that size
for a spring vacation near Montreal.
That means we have to take the dock out
every September and erect it
every June.

If the term
moving heaven and earth
means anything
it may refer to
upping and downing
that dock.

The first time we did it,
there were six of us.
The last two times
there were one and a half
(one being one of my sons,
the half being yours truly.)

We did it again today
Fathers’ day
(or in the local family vernacular,
“Wonderful Sons Day”)
and I must say
we get slicker
and more wonderful
every time.



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About riverwriter

Poet, playwright, duplicate bridge player, website designer, cottager, husband, father, grandfather, former athlete, carpenter, computer helper for my friends, theatre designer, backstage polymath, retired teacher of highschool English, drama, art, a baritone singer in a barbershop quartet, who knows what else? wordcurrents is on Facebook: Doug also has a Facebook page, "Incognitio", related to his novels.
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2 Responses to Dock

  1. George says:


    Slick and wonderful are the glory seeking spring ‘workers’ opening Cottages, and sliding down shores. I’d like to see Slick and his buddy Wonderful in the cold windy fall rolling the stone back up the hill:

    knowing that winter is surrounding them with the white capped roller river shedding sunshine steam, beside that horizontal falling sun beam.

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